


save/reload

by dcuros



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, Lots and Lots of Death, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Time Loop, artistic liberties with canon, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 18:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18722488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcuros/pseuds/dcuros
Summary: Not even death can stop wild cards.In which Goro Akechi wakes up to orange skies and a ruined city again and again and again.





	save/reload

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Goro Day, everyone!

 

_Goro Akechi was falling._

_No, he wasn’t falling. He was sinking._

_He tried to flail his arms, to make a break for an unseen surface in this endless sea of blue. Tried yet failed thanks to the chains that looped around his arms, dragging him deeper and deeper. He kicked but the chains fettered on each ankle stopped his movements._

_Where was he?_

_He felt a tug on his chains. He was sinking faster._

_Was this death?_

_More chains emerged from the unknown depths and wrapped around his chest. They tugged him deeper, squeezing the air from Goro’s lungs. He winced as they pressed against the gunshot wound over his left chest._

_Not death, then. Death wasn’t supposed to_ _hurt_ _._

_The chains wrapped themselves tighter, and he couldn’t breathe. His vision blurred into a mess of black and blue, into streaks of silver and dots of gold._

_Before the darkness overcame him, his sight snapped into focus one last time; a lone butterfly flew overhead. He could see its glow circle him before it landed on his chest._

_He felt the chains around his chest loosen—_

_And Goro saw no more._

 

* * *

 

A gasp—  and the world snapped back into focus.

Where…?

Goro’s eyes were greeted by the sight of scribbles on paper: his notebook, open at the latest page, his pen still poised over the drying ink of the last character.

Did he... zone out while writing?

Before he could lose himself in thought again, he winced at the crash of waves against metal, feeling his chest squeeze, bracing…

Bracing for what?

The moment passed, and he gathered his bearings. This was… Shido’s Palace, wasn’t it? The bleak landscape of ruined buildings scattered all over the sea was unmistakable. The water, tinted orange, bordering on red, by the sun had always reminded Goro of a sea of blood, of sunken corpses that his father had left in his wake.

What was he doing here?

A scan of his notebook answered his question: he suspected Joker’s survival and wanted to inspect the ship for any wandering Thieves.

Cursing, he packed up his notes and gave his weapons a quick look-over. His swords were fine, both the light sabre he had received from Joker and the serrated sword of his normal outfit were in top condition. He had run straight to the Diet Building from the TV Station and left the toy gun in his apartment, leaving him with just the pistol in his briefcase and none of his usual supplies.

The gun was beaten and horribly scuffed. Evidence of inexperience had left its marks on its plastic body and Goro couldn’t look at it long enough to give it the proper care it needed. It didn’t really matter; scratched up or not, it worked perfectly fine in the Metaverse, after all. The afternoon sun washed over its scars, it’s light dyeing it a dark orange, almost red.  

A twinge shot through his chest and sirens flooded his ears. He could hear the distant sound of pounding, in time with the pounding in his ears that threatened to split his skull apart. His vision filled red, swirled with black. He saw teeth, bared and bloody and inhuman. He saw his own face, cruel and animalistic, like the monster he truly was. He saw—  

Nothing. Nothing but sky and sea and ruins.  

What...was that?

He felt like he was forgetting something; it felt like remembering a dream— or maybe a nightmare— one that draped over his mind like a thick cloak that dissolved into dust under his fingers whenever he tried to grasp at it.  

Were his dreams always that vivid? His mind was filling with more and more questions and as much as he wanted to answer every single one of them, he was running out of time. If he was right and the Thieves were after Shido, then he couldn’t afford to dally around and wait until they steal his long-awaited target from under his nose.  

He had to go.

Goro Akechi prided himself on being right. But as he scaled up the side of the Palace, he prayed to whatever gods were listening that he was wrong, that everything was going according to plan.

Pity the gods never listened to people like him.

 

 

He wandered the ship in a daze.

He was right of course; the Thieves _were_ here. Security roamed the cabin halls, their guard dogs growling and snapping at every VIP in reach, searching for the intruders. They wouldn’t touch him, of course, and yet Goro had the urge to put distance between him and those sharp teeth.

The ship’s interior was familiar— it would be after years of wandering its halls. He’d found himself here during middle school, and it was here that he nearly died before he awakened his powers. In his spare time, he sneak around the Diet Building and go here, mingling with the VIPs and rooting out any possible weakness he could use against Shido.

But today, it felt off— almost _too_ familiar. The frantic chatter of ship’s panicked guests, the pathetic whines of the VIPs’ Shadows as they each described how they were set upon by the Phantom Thieves, the broken vents and splintered tables— destruction the Thieves had carved in their path: every step through the Palace gave Goro a strange sense of _deja vu_ and an even greater headache.

He wandered down the lower decks, past rooms and hallways and lower still until the ship’s garish decor melted into the drab grey of steel and iron.

The engine room.

His head throbbed, and the world started to spin. His legs trembled below him, on the verge of collapse as a deluge of pain assaulted his senses. Disoriented, he dropped from the catwalk to the ground below—

Right as the Thieves exited the control room.

Fuck.

Goro steadied himself and fought down the nausea inching its way up his throat. Joker was here. He had to stop him. He had to—

A fresh surge of pain ran through his body, causing him to stagger back and clutch his aching head. He was starting to see double but he kept his eyes trained on Joker’s face; his expression blurred back and forth between his usual calm demeanor, and an unfamiliar worry that made Goro’s head spin even worse.

“Long time no see,” he said, straining to keep his voice level.

“You…!?” Sakamoto shouted back but Goro ignored him.

“Hey...uh, is he alright? He looks kinda off,” said Takamaki.

He wasn’t; he was battered by wave after wave of pain and nausea and this strange, strange feeling of familiarity he couldn’t shake off. He was out at sea, tumbling and tossed about by the unforgiving currents. He could hear the Thieves talk amongst themselves but it sounded so distant, separated by the wall of water flooding his ears.

Goro felt like drowning.

But he couldn’t afford to be weak— he couldn’t lose here. He forced air down his starving lungs and spoke. He couldn’t hear what he was saying but the words flowed smoothly from his mouth, as if following a script practised for a show that went over and over again.

His eyes never left Joker even as the world around him shifted between grey and red and grey.

With one final roar, Goro drew his sabre and prepared for battle.

He was going to show him. Goro Akechi was going to win, and his revenge can finally begin.

 

 

It was over.

The blare of sirens echoed throughout the emptiness of the wide walls of the engine room, waves that crested and thrashed and dissolved any thoughts of escape from Goro’s tired mind like they were sandcastles by the shoreline.

It was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the snide tone of his cognitive double, nor the low growls that came from the dog shadows flanking them, waiting to pounce on Goro if he ever emerged the victor.

Nor could it swallow the sounds of banging coming from the other side of the watertight door behind him. It was rhythmic, matching his heart pound for pound.

Despite the intensity of his showdown with the Thieves and under the barrel of his double’s gun, Goro was _calm_. It was peaceful, really, knowing that death was certain.

Inescapable.

There was nothing left for him. No more plans, no more tricks. His Personas were trapped behind the cloud of exhaustion that wrapped around his mind.

His revenge was over— left to the hands of Joker and his merry band while Goro waited to die. He didn’t need to do anything more. He had the shadows trapped with him and had the Thieves make their escape.

But he wanted to, if only to prove himself stronger than against his father’s cognition, stronger than Shido ever expected. He wanted to prove that perhaps in another life, under different circumstances, he would have been the one to drive Shido mad and ruin him forever.

He straightened to face his opponent despite his body protesting every movement, every breath painful as it stretched muscles overworked from running berserk. The light cast by the siren lights dyed his doppelganger’s face a bloody red, giving his twisted grin a feral edge.

Goro raised his gun, “So, my final enemy is a puppet version of myself…”

His double laughed, “Did you think you were any less of a puppet than I am? You thought you could bare your fangs at the captain but you didn’t even realize you were still caught in his leash.” He circled Goro, his pace languid, as if he was taking a simple stroll around the park.

“Now here you are, throwing everything away for those pesky little rats. And for what? For friendship? For _atonement_?” the double spat with such venom.

“Did you think someone like you can ever change?”

Goro smiled.

They both fired.

 

* * *

 

_Blue._

_Endless blue._

_Loose chains writhed in the space next to him, perhaps hooked onto another fool cast adrift like him. They formed shapes too: clock faces and timepieces, all stopped with each passing face ticking closer and closer to midnight._

_Goro floated listlessly; limp even without the heavy links digging into his skin and holding his limbs immobile._

_He...died, didn’t he?_

_A butterfly— the same butterfly as before— flit down the dark expanse and landed on Goro’s hair._

_“My poor, poor guest,” echoed a voice— young, feminine and teetered on the edge of recognition. The butterfly on his head beat its wings, a light gust blowing through his hair in a way that was almost_ _soothing_ . _“We’ve allowed you to be a pawn in this game, and now it has claimed you as another of its victims. My master and I have failed you and for that, I am so sorry.”_

_It took Goro a few tries before he found his voice, “...game…? Who…? Where...am I?”_

_“Hush, dear guest. My name is Lavenza, and I am afraid the rules forbid me from speaking more of the game.” said the voice, despondent. “As for your other questions, we do not have the luxury of time to speak. You must go back before you drift further into the Sea.”_

_“Go back? Go where?” Goro asked. “I’m_ _dead_ _. There’s nowhere for me to go.”_

_“There is more to a wild card’s powers than the power of multiple Personas,” the butterfly flew up from its perch and circled overhead. Its glowing wings were almost hypnotic and Goro could feel his eyelids grow heavy._

_“Good luck, my hero. Use your chance wisely.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Goro Akechi opened his eyes to sky and sea and ruins.

He was back?

He was _alive_.

He tossed his open notebook into his coat pocket and ran inside the Palace. If he was fast enough, he could intercept the Thieves before they entered the Treasure room.

The door to the representative’s chamber was still locked.

Where was Joker and the others? Were they late?

Goro decided to wait. He wasn’t sure how long he spent with Lavenza but the Thieves should arrive soon if they ran straight from the engine room. And then, they—

Well, he didn’t know what he wanted to do once he met them. He wasn’t sure if they truly meant it but they had offered to let him join them, didn’t they? He had already offered them Shido’s heart for the taking but now that he had the opportunity, he wouldn’t pass up the chance to kick his father’s ass.

The entrance hall was quiet— it didn’t seem like the Thieves were coming soon. He leaned against the narrow strip of wall beside the ornate golden door and gathered his thoughts.

Who _was_ this Lavenza anyway? His meeting with her had only given Goro more questions than he could ever find answers for. Games, wild cards, a sea of some sort— none of these made sense to him nor did he want any part of it. He had no clue as to her intentions, and Goro did not intend to free himself from Shido’s clutches just to leap into a new cage set by an unknown master.

His thoughts were cut short when a Shadow stumbled into the room. “Akechi-san! Thank goodness you’re here!”

As the Shadow limped over, and Goro recognized him as the IT company president that had worked the fake Medjed trap with him. The Shadow looked roughed up: his mask was cracked and crooked and his clothes were in disarray.

“What seems to be the problem, Inoue-san?” Goro asked.

“It’s the Phantom Thieves! They’re in the ship!” screamed Inoue, gripping Goro’s shoulders tight enough to hurt. “I thought they were gone Akechi-san! I saw it on the news! You need to catch them!”

Goro tilted his head, “Yes, you’ve told me before. I’m handling it right now, Inoue-san, and I’ll be sure to capture them soon.” He flashed a smile at the shaking Shadow, the one he used on TV hosts that asked too many questions.

But the Shadow looked even more puzzled, “But… I haven’t seen you all day, Akechi-san. I was working in my cabin the entire time and waiting for the captain to start the festivities.” He gasped. “Do you think those Thieves can disguise themselves as one of us?” he asked, eyeing Goro with suspicion.

What. “No! No, that shouldn’t be the case,” Goro replied. “I… must have been mistaken, I apologize. My workload lately _has_ been too much for a student like me and I must have confused it with another case. Could you tell me more about what happened?”

“The captain sure keeps you busy, huh? I can’t say I envy you.” Inoue patted his shoulder in sympathy, and Goro fought the urge to break the Shadow’s fingers in half. “Those damned Thieves broke into my cabin, insulted _my_ skills and had the gall to ask for a letter of recommendation to see the captain. I refused, of course, so the brutes attacked me and my assistants and stole the one I had prepared!”

A recommendation letter? From what he overheard in their earlier encounter, the Thieves should have all the ones they needed.

“Did… the Thieves attack you again?” Goro blurted. He coughed and quickly corrected himself, “I mean… when did they attack you, Inoue-san?”

“They left my cabin around almost an hour ago and I’ve been running around looking for you since then,“ answered the Shadow, his voice sounding on the edge of hysteria. The man looked panicked again, his head whipping back and forth in search of an unseen threat. “Again…? Do you think they’ll try to attack me again, Akechi-san? To finish the job and take out the witnesses like in the movies?”

It couldn’t be… Goro tried to calm the Shadow as best as he could, but his own gut started to twist in dread. “The Thieves aren’t known for their violence but rest assured, I will take care of them shortly. Do you have happen to hear any clues as to where they might be headed next?”1

“Hmm… I did overhear them say something about finding a ‘cleaner’ of some sort? God knows what sort of mess they’ve made in the ship.”

Shit.

With one last nod to Inoue’s Shadow, Goro ran. He whipped past the ship’s guests and around the patrolling Shadows on his way down to the engine room. He switched to Loki’s outfit; the claws gave him a better grip and allowed him to climb down the side of the ship, entering through an open window in the lower deck.

I couldn’t be… it wasn’t possible. But the facts were these: The Thieves were still looking for recommendation letters, the Thieves were looking for the Cleaner, the Cleaner hung around the engine control room and thus, the Thieves were headed for the engine room; all evidence that pointed to one impossible conclusion.

Time.

Lavenza hadn’t just sent him back; she had sent him back in _time._

His lungs burned as his steps thundered through the metal hallways lining the depths of the Palace. His heart clenched at the memory of his cognitive double’s cruelty, clenched as he remembered the pain, the despair he felt in his final moments.

He didn’t need to kill the Thieves this time— nor did he didn’t want to. But Goro ran because he needed to _know_ : to know if he had really gone back in time; to know if the Thieves could survive against his double—

To know if he still had a place with them, without needing to pay with his life.

His footsteps were drowned by the sound of battle that echoed through the hallway as drew nearer to his destination. Gunshots and explosions rattled the walls, interspersed with pained roars and screams coming from the Shadows they were fighting. He could hear Joker’s voice amidst the clamour, strained but calm while he directed the Thieves in battle.

They were fine. They were _winning_.

Goro was quick to change his mind as soon as he entered the engine room and beheld the scene of carnage before him; droves of Shadows poured out from the walls, through unseen doors hidden in the darkness or spawning in a puff of pink and black mist. His double was also there, cackling while he summoned more and more Shadows, sometimes firing a round or two, grazing the Thieves.

His eyes locked on to Joker, surrounded by a mob of Shadows; each lunge sidestepped with such nimble ease and countered with a ferocity that belied the thief’s elegant form. With a spray of red, he ripped off his mask and summoned a Persona. It smashed into the surrounding Shadows, propelled by its metallic wings, and crushed them under its golden gauntlets and boots. Its face, covered with a shiny golden mask, was quickly stained in black ooze before it disappeared back into Joker’s mind.

It was an even match; the Shadows threatened to overwhelm the thief and his friends were  all just as occupied to help. But Joker was a blur of endless motion, a flash of black and red and silver that left dissolving mists of darkness in his wake, his voice a steady stream of commands to his friends that kept them safe. It was a delicate tightrope and all it took to fall was a moment’s pause, just a split-second of doubt before he was pulled under the rising tide of Shadows.

A split-second in which he looked at the newcomer, clad in blue and black, met his eyes through their masks and _hesitated_.

_Bang!_

Time seemed to slow as Joker slowly sank to the ground, a spot of red blooming on his chest. His cognitive double’s laugh rang over the chaos.

“That’s one piece of trash down! The captain appreciates your sacrifice for the good of Japan!”

“Joker!”

Someone screamed— Goro wasn’t sure who; the rush of blood in his ears made every sound feel so distant, so _unreal_ , that he couldn’t tell where it came from. He swallowed past the rawness in his throat, drew his gun and fired. His cognition toppled backwards and Goro had already hopped into the fray with Loki before the body scattered into black mist. He slashed at a Shadow aiming for Queen’s head before darting past Fox and running his sword through a Guardian of Hell that was braced to leap.

“It’s the black mask!” the cat shouted, glancing warily between him and the looming wall of Shadows.

“These readings… Akechi!?”

“He seems to be helping us,” Kitagawa mused. “But why would he—”

“This isn’t the time to ask questions,” Niijima said firmly. “We need to can do that once we get out of here alive and we can’t afford to pass up any help right now.”

“But he—”

The rest of the Thieves’ arguments passed through his ears but Goro was no longer listening. Every shred of focus he could muster converged into a single goal: find Joker.

Kurusu couldn’t be dead, there was no way he was. He had survived back in the interrogation room, with nothing but his wits, survived the full extent of Goro’s powers, even after he drove himself berserk. He couldn’t die from something like _this_. It had to be a trick.

It had to be.

Without his cognition to summon more enemies, the Shadows eventually thinned out until finally, with one final shot of Megidolaon courtesy of Loki, the room was clear. The Thieves ran to Joker’s side as he lay pale and motionless on the ground. His coat torn in places and blood pooled under his chest and dyed his vest a dark red.

“Mona! Hurry! Do something!”

“I...I’m trying! I don’t have enough energy to summon Zorro!”

Still, the cat kept trying to summon his Persona but Zorro continued to refuse to answer his call. The fatigue from the battle must have caught up with him since Morgana swayed on his feet just trying.

“Skull!” Niijima barked, “Joker keeps a supply of medicine from that clinic, right? Revivadrin? Find it now!”

The thief in question was already rifling through the pouch that Joker kept their supplies in but he was taking too long. The Metaverse was just slightly more forgiving of death than the real world and they had mere minutes to revive Joker before he was gone for good. Goro’s heart sank as Sakamoto pulled out tubes of ointment and packets of balm and soda cans out of the bag but found none of the medicine in question.

He allowed his outfit to melt into the princely attire and felt Robin Hood stir at the back of his mind. But as soon as he stepped closer, the rest of the Thieves jumped into action. They each drew their respective weapons and formed a protective circle around their fallen leader.

“I would suggest that you stop right there, Akechi-kun,” said Okumura, her grenade launcher cocked and aimed squarely at his chest.

“I can help him,” Goro replied. He slowly reached for his mask and stopped when he heard the sound of more guns being cocked.

“What kind if idiots do you take us for, huh?” Sakamoto squinted at him, training his shotgun on Goro and leaving Morgana to rifle through Joker’s bag. “You tried to kill him before! There’s no way we’re letting you near him to finish the job, you bastard!”  

“He’s already dying, you idiot, and he’s running out of time!” Goro snapped. “Robin can revive him if you’d just let me! Are you ready to let him die just because you won’t trust me?”

“You are the black mask, are you not? The one that Madarame’s Shadow spoke about?” Kitagawa asked. “Your costume earlier was unmistakable.”

Goro clenched his fists and nodded; there was no point denying it now, “I am.”  

“And you were the culprit behind the mental shutdowns?” Niijima added.

He nodded again, avoiding Okumura’s and Sakura’s gazes.

“Principal Kobayakawa, Futaba’s mother… my father… you killed their Shadows, didn’t you?”

Goro wanted to deny it, to salvage any good will that the Thieves felt for him but he couldn’t. His true face was bared for them to see and the more he denied his crimes, the less the Thieves would trust him.

They knew the last time, didn’t they? And they still wanted him along.   

“I did.”

But the Thieves only grew more hostile. He heard a half-sob escape from Sakura before Takamaki had her in her arms.

Niijima broke the brief but tense silence that followed after, “You’ve been working for Masayoshi Shido all this time, right? Medjed, the trap at the casino, that was all you. Why would you help us now?”

“I...”  

What could he say? That in another life, he had fought against them, drove himself past the point of madness and _lost_ . That in another life, they had asked him to _be_ one of them even after everything that he’d done. That in another life, he had _died_ for them.

“Please…” he pleaded. “I just... want to help.”

Their answer was clear: even behind their masks, Goro could see the suspicion plainly written in the Thieves’ faces. Their guns remained trained and when Takamaki spoke, the last of Goro’s hopes were dashed.  

“I’m sorry, Akechi-kun, but we just can’t trust you. Not after all that.”

They didn’t want him.

Anything was better than the cold stares of disbelief and disgust the Thieves threw him. And so engrossed they were in their standoff that they failed to notice the brown-coated figure forming from the mists behind them.

Anything was better than the bitter sting of rejection that coursed through Goro’s veins like poison— even the bullet that pierced his skull before everything went black.

 

* * *

 

_Goro wondered how long he’d been drifting._

_Time was meaningless in the void. The clock faces around him seemed to mock him, each face five minutes to midnight then ten minutes back on the next._

_Goro wondered what would happen once the clock struck twelve._

_Around him, the blue expanse grew a shade darker but Goro couldn’t find the energy to care. A numbness had settled into his bones and he barely struggled when he found more chains wrapped around his limbs. The heavy iron links sapped the last of his resistance and he let himself be dragged to his unseen destination. A faint blue light hovered around the edge of his vision and he felt a familiar weight rest on his hair._

_“My hero, you need to go back. You shouldn’t stay here too long,” Lavenza chided, tone warm but tinged with worry._

_There were far too many questions bouncing around Goro’s mind and he needed answers, now. “What is this place, Lavenza? Where is_ _here_ _?”_

_He felt the butterfly flutter its— her?— wings as they gently brushed against his hair. “We do not have a name for this place but the world you see around is the space between the consciousness and subconsciousness, between dreams and reality.”_

_None of it made sense. “How did I get here? I was supposed to be dead!”_

_The butterfly skittered around his head, “You weren’t supposed to be here, my dear guest. At least, not out here. As someone with the power of multiple personas, you were supposed to awaken in the Velvet Room. But instead, an evil god has overtaken the room for its own purposes and cast you aside.”_

_Great. Not even the gods wanted anything to do with him. He felt a pang at the memory of the Thieves’ vicious rejection and asked, “What is this Velvet Room?”_

_“My master and I are tasked with assisting those with the power of the wild card on their journey,” Lavenza began. “The Room was meant to house your consciousness and serve as your anchor while you dip into the collective unconscious of all of humanity.”_

_“Collective… unconscious? What does that have to do with using multiple Personas?”_

_“My sister once told me that our guests’ struggles are but a backdrop to their true quest of finding themselves. You and all the other wild cards before you have walked through humanity’s innermost thoughts and desires, and these encounters have changed you, whether you realize it or not. You see, you find pieces of yourself through your interactions with others,” Lavenza explained. “And these pieces are the masks you call Personas.”_

_It was all too much for Goro’s tired brain. “Wait, you’re saying I can awaken more Personas here?”_

_“No, that’s not quite right. I apologize, but we have taken too long here already. You really must go back.” The butterfly launched from his hair and hovered inches away from Goro’s face. “See how it grows darker around us? You are starting to drift into the Sea. Go too far and you can no longer return.”_

_Goro wanted to squeeze more answers out of her, but a spell of dizziness assaulted his senses. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt himself slowly sink into unconsciousness._

_“Live, my hero, and I hope we meet under better circumstances,” he heard Lavenza’s voice say, faint and feeble in the void, before he too faded away._

 

* * *

 

 

Sky. Sea. Ruins.

He was back. Again.

He shivered under the ocean spray against his skin, washing away the numbness that dulled the pain that carved through his entire being until it gave way to all the ugliness that had festered inside him.

Betrayal.

They asked him to join them, once upon a time. Then, they pointed their guns at him. He could still feel the venom in their gazes boiling under his skin.   

_Regret_.

He shouldn’t have bothered. What else did he expect? He was cursed— unwanted. No amount of pretty words or good intentions could change that. It was foolish of him to even believe for a second that they would accept someone like him. It was for the best too; it was only a matter of time before he outlived his usefulness to the Thieves and he was tossed to the curb to rot.

**_Anger_ **.

Goro screamed, the sound devoured by the vast empty sky and the crashing waves, and almost crushed his notebook in a gloved hand.

It wasn’t _fair_ . His entire life, he had worked so hard, fought tooth and nail for every bit of comfort, of respect that he deserved, but Fate was had rigged the cards and dealt him one bad hand after another. It had taken his home, taken his happiness, taken his _life_ , and it didn’t look like it was about to stop taking anytime soon.

But now, it was time for him to take back— to claim his victory before it slipped between his fingers— and he didn’t need the Thieves to do it. He didn’t need anyone but himself.

No, there was no need to bother with the Thieves. He had to focus on his true target. And as much as he wanted to tear his father down at the height of his ambition, he couldn’t afford to lose his target to Joker. He circled around the entrance to the Diet Building, found a handhold and began to climb. It was slow, but Goro didn’t mind taking his time.

He had all the time he needed.

 

 

Goro had never seen the main assembly hall. He had no reason to. Despite all the time he had spent in the Palace, he had carefully avoided the Palace’s ruler whenever he navigated the ship. Whether it was for his benefit or the Shadow’s, he wasn’t sure— he didn’t want to risk influencing Shido in the real world through his Shadow, nor was he sure he could resist cutting down the Shadow as soon as he saw him.

The upper balcony allowed him a complete view of the room. A giant daruma was painted on the back wall of the chamber, right over the ornate wooden podium at its center. The seats fanned around the podium were all empty, as were all the other balconies. There was no one in the room, save for Goro and the lone Shadow standing behind the podium.

Shido.

He leaped from the balcony and landed soundlessly on the chamber’s thick carpet. He walked in front of the podium, cocking his gun at the Shadow. The Shadow did not even deign to turn as he spoke.

“So, the feral dog has decided to turn on his master.”

Goro’s finger twitched on the trigger. Cold fire freezed and burned through his veins, “I’m nobody’s dog.”

Shadow Shido turned and raised an eyebrow, “Oh? You’re even more pitiful than I thought. You were more than willing to roll over like the miserable whelp you are, and for what? A little taste of fame? Some recognition, maybe? You should have seen your tail wag at even the smallest bit of praise. _Pathetic_.”

Goro shook, yet his hands remained steady. He wanted to argue, to scream that Shido was wrong, but the words caught in his throat.

“ _Good boy_ ,” mocked the Shadow. “Good little attack dog. You’re nothing without me! I gave you everything you have; your apartment, your clothes, your reputation. You could have had everything your little heart desired if only you learned to heel.”

“Shut up!” A shot pinged off the edge of the Shadow’s sunglasses, breaking the frames and revealing Shido’s golden eyes. Goro couldn’t stop the tremble that ran through his body, the overwhelming feeling of _disgust_ that swept over him. “I’m done being your tool! It’s about time your sins caught up with you, _father_ , and I’m here to deliver the justice you deserve.”

Unperturbed, Shadow Shido merely shook his head, “Such a pity. I would have liked to get a few more hindrances out of the way before I got rid of you. Useless scum like you is unneeded in the country I am destined to build.”   

The floor started to shake as the central podium rose from the ground. The cheering cognitions crowded around the rising platform, each one stepping over the others in their bid to reach Shido before they each solidified into gold. A thick wooden platform closed in from both sides of the room, grinding under its weight all those who were too slow to get out of its way. Goro jumped, stumbling a little at the unsteady surface and drew his sword.

Shido’s Shadow had not transformed, not like the Shadows he had fought into submission before Loki drove them berserk, or the Shadows he and the Thieves battled in Mementos. Instead, his clothes transformed, and he donned a white spiked helmet, general’s outfit and a large red cape. He stepped over the bodies of his frozen cognitions, their forms grotesque, twisting and contorting into the shape of a giant golden lion.

Goro dove to the side as the lion pounced on him. The platform trembled at the impact, launching Goro into the air, which the Shadow took as its chance to bat him into the wall with a powerful swipe. He wheezed, winded, and rolled out of the way of another pounce.

“Did you really think you could win against me, boy?” the Shadow taunted. He snapped his fingers, and a golden throne rose from the lion’s back. He lounged lazily on the seat and looked down at Goro, collapsed figure desperately trying to catch his breath. “I am the man who will lead Japan to a glorious new era! An insignificant brat like you can do nothing against my power!”

The lion reared up, ready to crush Goro under its size. With a spark of blue flame, Robin Hood appeared and caught its massive paws, pushing it back to give Goro the space to regain his footing.

“The world doesn’t need someone as rotten as you at the top,” Goro hissed back. He recalled Robin Hood and summoned Loki; the black and white Persona slashed deep at the Shadow’s mount, gouging out a chunk of its left paw. Loki fired a few shots of its dark energy in the hopes of hitting the Shadow and driving him and real Shido berserk, but the lion blocked his attempts with its remaining front paw and a few swings of its tail.

The battle continued at the same pace: the lion used its enormous weight and surprising speed to knock Goro off-balance; its claws narrowly dodged, leaving shallow cuts all over Goro’s arms and chest, all the while Goro fired at the Shadow sitting atop, switching between Personas to toss spell after spell at the golden beast.

He had to finish this soon— the lack of his battle supplies meant that he no means to heal himself, and his injuries were starting to slow his movements. He ordered Robin Hood to fire one last Kougaon, and at last, the lion began to crumble.

“Tch. Struggle all you want. Nothing will get in the way of the people’s happiness! All those who oppose me must perish!”

His feet unsteady from exhaustion, Goro summoned Loki to fire another volley of its dark energy at the Shadow, but the lion once again leapt into the air. More frozen cognitions grew from its core, repairing the lion’s broken form. Instead of landing on its feet, a pair of wings had also sprouted from the lion’s back, keeping it airborne.

The lion dived.

Loki tried to block the winged beast with its sword, but its power was simply too much. The Persona was cleaved in two between its jaws, and for a flash, Goro’s world filled with gold before it too was replaced with darkness.

 

* * *

 

  _You’re here again,” said the butterfly as soon as he opened his eyes. She was already perched on Goro’s chest, the light glow of her wings bright against the dark blue void. “It seems you were still unable to avoid your death in this try.”_

_“I have to go back,” Goro said firmly. “I almost had him. Send me back, Lavenza.”_

_The butterfly dithered, but the grim set of Goro’s face welcomed no arguments. She launched herself from his torso, leaving a soft trail of sparks in her wake as Goro closed his eyes._

 

* * *

 

The ship melted under a rush of dizziness as Goro returned to the real world. He half-tossed his phone into his coat pocket and ran for the train that would take him to his apartment.

Shido’s Shadow had gotten the upper hand the last time, but Goro was now armed with knowledge of his tactics. All he needed to do was make some quick preparations and gather the necessary supplies before he challenged the Shadow again.

He tapped his foot in impatience as he watched the Tokyo scenery through the train windows. Two girls were not-so-subtly pointing at him, gently nudging each other in his direction, but Goro hadn’t the energy to entertain his fans today. He could deal with his pictures floating around the internet once he got back from his father’s Palace.

He ran out to the platform the moment the door opened, and half-sprinted to his building, nearly tripped on the stairs in his haste and barreled through his front door. He ran into the living room, indoor shoes be damned, and dug through his dresser for the box that held all his supplies. He emptied his briefcase of his laptop and his mystery novel, tossing the unwanted items onto the coffee table, and stuffed every nook and cranny of the metal case with bandages and some healing rocks— life stones, Joker called them— that he collected in his previous forays into the Metaverse. He patted his coat as he stuffed a couple of bars of portable rations down its pockets.

He stalked into his bedroom to find the case of ammunition for his gun. But before he could reach the box buried in the far and dusty depths underneath his bed, a sharp rapping coming from his front door sounded through his entire apartment.

His neighbours probably didn’t appreciate the racket he’d made while he rummaged through his apartment. Hori-san next door had been rather crotchety lately and had taken to giving Goro the stink-eye whenever they passed each other in the hallway.

A smile forced its way onto his face as he swung the door open, and dropped once he saw the purple-suited man on the other side. The man was grinning, likely from the surprise etched across Goro’s face.

“Tanaka-san!” Goro greeted, brimming with false cheer. “What brings you here?”

The Cleaner’s grin widened. “The old boss man just wanted me to check on you, you know? Make sure you were doing alright!”

“I-I’m fine,” Goro stammered. “But I do have some work to do. It’s a challenge even for me to juggle all my school work with my interviews, you see.” He tried to slam the door shut, but Tanaka had already stepped in and blocked it with his foot.

“That’s pretty cold of you, Akechi-san. You won’t even invite me in?”

Before Goro could respond, the purple-suited man shouldered past him and plopped down onto his couch.

“Nice crib you’ve got here. Detective work pay well?”

Shutting the door, Goro hissed at the man, “What the hell are you doing? You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You might be with the cops, kid, but you don’t get to tell me where I gotta be. The boes does, and he tells me a certain little brown noser’s been sniffing around Chiyoda when he shouldn’t be.”

“I—”

“Studying this afternoon, huh?” Tanaka kicked at the still-open briefcase on the coffee table. “Planning to meet your little thief friends for a project?”

“They are _not_ my friends!”

The Cleaner stared at him, Goro’s paling face reflected in his dark sunglasses. He got to his feet, and Goro couldn’t help but back away at his looming figure.

“The boss says you did good, kid. Excellent work, even,” Tanaka stepped closer, backing Goro farther and farther. “But it looks like you’ve become too big of a risk to have around. Can’t have that in our line of business, ya know?”

He lunged.

Goro jumped out of the way; his hands wrapped around the motley items he kept on top of his dresser and tossed them at the Cleaner, but the small bottles and flimsy picture frames hardly gave the man any pause. Goro aimed a punch at Tanaka’s jaw, only to be dodged, and received a knee to the gut in return. He coughed, feeling the air rush out of his lungs, but he swung his fists in a wild haymaker, causing the other man to stagger back.

He had to run— he couldn’t let himself die here. His apartment could be surrounded by more yakuza, but it was still a better option than trying to fight an experienced hitman. Goro grabbed his briefcase and ran for the door before a heavy weight crashed into his back and slammed his head against the floor.

“Sorry, kid... a hit’s a hit. I’m sure the newspapers are gonna love you tomorrow.” Tanaka’s hands wrapped around Goro’s neck. “I can already see the headlines! The poor Detective Prince, attacked in his apartment by a crazed fan. What a tragedy! Kids today just aren’t safe in Tokyo’s streets anymore.”

Goro kicked at the man, clawed at the man’s hands squeezing around his throat but his gloves found no purchase. He could feel his pulse throb in his throat as his view slowly grew hazy. He swiped at the man’s throat one last time before weakness set in his limbs, and soon, he was gone.

 

* * *

 

_“My hero, please…”_

 

* * *

 

The lion crashed onto the ground, its wings too singed and broken to carry its weight. Goro cackled in triumph, ready to drive the Shadow mad, before the smashed golden fragments swirled around and formed a large pyramid.

Goro was still laughing when the cannons fired and his world erupted in flame.

 

* * *

 

_“You must calm yourself. Only destruction awaits you if you persist in your course of action. “_

 

* * *

 

His foot caught on a stray piece of gold, and he stumbled right into the gaping maws of golden beast.

 

* * *

 

  _“The path of the wild card is not one to be trod alone.”_

 

* * *

 

The lion stilled, panting while segments of its body broke off in large chunks and clanged onto the floor.

Goro had it on the ropes and this was his chance to finish it off before it transformed. He summoned Loki, who trapped the beast behind a curtain of fire. He circled around it, looking for a clear shot to Shido’s Shadow before the beast let out a mighty roar. Before Goro could react, it had already reared back, its claws wreathed in dark flame, and tore him to shreds.

 

* * *

 

_“Please...just_ **_stop_ ** _!”_

_Goro snapped out of his stupor and found himself back in the in-between. The expanse had changed. Gone were the stray chains that floated alongside him, leaving him with just the ones still wrapped around his limbs. There were no more clock faces around too, but the blue around him grew a shade closer to midnight._

_“Lavenza…?”_

_“Have you regained your senses, Goro Akechi?” asked the butterfly._

_“I didn’t… I couldn’t defeat him,” Goro wanted to curl in on himself, to wrap his arms around his legs and wash away the taste of his failures, but his fetters wouldn’t budge no matter how much he pulled. “I tried everything, but I still kept dying. I’ve been striving for this for years and I’m still not strong enough. Why?”_

_Lavenza’s voice was soothing, almost motherly despite her youth, “There is only so much one can do by themselves, you see. As much as one wishes to deny it, the power of one’s bonds with others is what truly makes one strong. This is especially true for those with the power of the wild card.”_

_“I… I remember you said something like that... about how the Velvet Room could help me awaken more Personas. Why can’t I do that now?”_

_“You’ve closed your heart off, my dear guest,” she replied.” For Personas to exist, the presence of others is vital. After all, there is no point in a mask if there is no one to show it to.” She perched herself on Goro’s cheek. “You’ve let yourself be bound in so much fear and hatred that you’ve started running in pointless circles, never reaching out to ask for help and still trapped in your fate.”_

_“I can’t!” Goro screamed, and he chuckled bitterly. “You want me to rely on other people, but I can’t! I’ve done everything on my own, and it’s taken me this far. I’m not weak… I don’t_ _need_ _other people.”_

_“It is not weakness to ask for help, my dear guest. In fact, it takes an ever greater strength to let yourself be vulnerable.”_

_“It’s cruel. My power needs other people but I...there’s no one who would want me. I’m broken… defective,” he lamented. “I’ve done too many horrible things...the others… they wouldn’t… Kurusu wouldn’t…”_

_Wait._

_“You said that this Velvet Room was open to those who can summon multiple Personas, right? Does that mean Kurusu is there too?”_

_Lavenza’s wings bobbed, as if nodding. “Indeed, The Trickster is another one of our room’s current guests, but the evil god has imprisoned him and turned him an unwitting pawn in this unjust game, just like you.” Anguish dripped from her every word. “Despite his strength, he is still in need of help, but there is nothing I can do to assist him.”_

_Goro hummed, pensive. At his silence, the butterfly launched herself with a beat of her tiny wings and hovered in front of Goro’s face. “My hero,” she asked, tentative, “may I ask a request of you? For your sake and his, please… find Akira Kurusu.”_

 

* * *

 

Lavenza’s request still reverberated through his mind, like the steady thrum of the ship’s engine under his feet, as Goro found himself back on the cruiser’s deck.

He… didn’t want to see the Thieves again. Not after last time.

But Goro had no other choice. Leaving the Metaverse to gather supplies would tip off Shido’s cronies, and all his attempts at defeating his father’s Shadow had only resulted in failure and death.

He would do it— if not for himself, then at least for his benefactor. He had no intention of owing anything to Lavenza.

It took some time, but his past— future?— knowledge led him easily to the Thieves. He dropped down onto the IT president’s balcony right as the Thieves gathered outside to inspect their latest prize.

“What the…!? Akechi?”  

“It’s… been a while,” he greeted lamely. His chest twinged at the suspicious looks the Thieves sent his way while they drew their weapons; it reminded him too much of his earlier attempt of befriending the Thieves and its tragic outcome. “I’m not here to fight.”

To make his point, he slowly raised his arms in surrender, but the Thieves only grew more tense.

Ah right. The mask.

“I don’t have my gun, but my light sabre is on my belt,” he said, keeping his voice level. “If you wish, you are also free to take off my mask so I can’t summon my Persona.”

The Thieves wordlessly looked at each other and nodded. Sakamoto and Kitagawa rushed forward and twisted Goro’s arms behind his back, tossing his light sabre at Sakura, while Joker reached out and plucked the sharp red mask off his face, his red gloves gently brushed against Goro’s cheek as he did.

With Goro successfully disarmed, the Thieves relaxed, but they didn’t sheathe their weapons. Instead, Okumura rested the edge of her axe under Goro’s chin as she asked, “What do you want, Akechi-kun?”

“I just wanted to talk,” he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat carefully as to not cut himself on the massive axe. “No tricks. There’s something you and I both want, and I propose we pool our resources to get it.”

“You bastard! Don’t think we don’t remember the last time you asked to work with us. You sold us out to the cops!” Sakamoto shouted.

Takamaki tilted her head, “If you’re talking about stealing Shido’s heart, we’ve got it handled, okay? We don’t need your help.”

“Handled? It’s almost election day, you dolts, and Shido is about to win! Surely, you could use all the help you need?” Goro rebutted. “Look, I know the most about his Palace _and_ his Shadow, alright? And most of all, I want Masayoshi Shido to go down— through any means necessary.”

Niijima shook her head, “That’s not enough. We can still make the deadline if we rush through the Palace and find this ‘cleaner’ person. Having to look over our shoulder will only slow us down.”

This was going the same as last time, and Goro wasn’t sure he could take another round of crushing rejection. He looked Joker in the eye and said, “I confess… I also have another reason I wish to speak with you about. It concerns something called the ‘Velvet Room’?”

Kurusu’s eyes widened behind his mask while the rest of the Thieves looked utterly baffled by his words. Interesting.

“Velvet what now? Did you hit your head or something, Akechi?”

But Joker had already waved down at the Thieves, a signal for them to stand down. He looked each thief in the eye, as if transmitting some sort of unspoken message and declared, “This isn’t the place for a chat. We need to go back to the real world.”

The rest of the Thieves groaned; the cat, in particular, had slapped both his paws over his comically large face.

“Fine. But we’re going to need to make another run tomorrow to catch us up.”

Joker nodded, and the Thieves moved out. Joker ran ahead, scouting for incoming Shadows, with Morgana, Kitagawa and Niijima in tow. The rest formed a perimeter around Goro, boxing him in as they moved from corner to corner.

Eventually, they made it back to the outer deck and out into the real world. Sakamoto had tossed his puffy jacket over his head to avoid recognition and the Thieves dragged him into the trains and up Leblanc’s attic for an impromptu meeting.

There wasn’t much for him to say, at least nothing that he had already said before. He explained his motives behind helping Shido, and reluctantly, revealed his involvement in the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns. As expected, Okumura and Sakura had taken the news badly, but finding out about his past had softened their expressions somewhat. Their meeting ran late into the night, until eventually each Thief was called away to their respective homes, leaving only him, Kurusu and the cat in the attic.

They didn’t fully trust him yet, not enough to let him wander out into the streets; but they trusted him or Joker enough to let him loose in the attic, albeit his every moved scrutinized by Morgana’s watchful eye.

Joker had tossed him a spare set of pajamas and placed a pillow and thick blanket on the couch while he went to the bathroom downstairs to change. The world seemed to still as the two of them were tucked into their respective beds. Goro was tired; he could no longer remember the last time he slept— actually slept, and not the darkness that filled his eyes whenever he died. But despite all his exhaustion, sleep eluded him, and he continued to stare at the attic’s ceiling and traced shapes with the star stickers stuck onto the rafters. He thought that the thief had fallen asleep, until his smooth voice broke the silence that filled the room.

“Hey, Akechi? Are you asleep?”

“Still awake, unfortunately,” replied Goro. “Did you need something, Kurusu-kun?”

“You wanted to talk about the Velvet Room, right? And earlier, you mentioned that you had another Persona... are you also…?” Kurusu trailed off.

“If you mean a wild card, then yes. I met a strange blue butterfly who told me about my powers. I’ve never been to the Velvet Room, however,” Goro shifted in the sofa, lying on his side to look at Kurusu. He explained the gist of his conversations with Lavenza, warning Akira about this so-called game the butterfly kept speaking about.

“I’ve seen that butterfly before, I think. Her name is Lavenza, huh,” Kurusu mused when Goro finished. He had sat up during Goro’s explanation, careful not to wake the cat curled up beside his pillow,  and rubbed his chin in thought. “I appreciate the warning, though. It kinda explains why you suddenly showed up like that. I was sure you thought I was dead!”

Goro chuckled, “Call it a detective’s intuition.”

“I call it cheating. You had help!” Kurusu joked to their amusement.

Their laughter soon faded and the awkward silence soon returned. Goro fidgeted under his covers, and Kurusu didn’t look like he was about to sleep anytime soon; he remained seated on his bed and stared at his covers, glowing white under the pale moonlight.

“How… how could you just… sit there like this…? So calm and relaxed and laughing like that?” Goro ventured, his tone seeped in uncertainty. “I may have explained to you my reasons, but that doesn’t change the fact that I tried to kill you.”

Kurusu twisted his sheets around his hands, “I know. It’s strange, but I don’t really blame you for what you did. And hearing what you said this afternoon, I don’t think you’d do it again…” He sighed and continued, “It’s just... I remembered that we knew there was someone pulling the strings behind you, even before you said anything. During your time with us, that’s what you’ve been hinting at right?”   

Goro met Kurusu’s eyes and saw nothing but raw sincerity there. He nodded.

Kurusu smiled softly, “I’m not saying you’re completely blameless, but… I feel like we were also at fault here. We were so wrapped up in getting one over you that we never really tried to help you. If we did, I think we could have been friends, you know?”

“I… yes, I think so too.”

There was a beat of silence before Kurusu asked, “Can I call you Goro?”

“W-What?” Goro stammered. “Why are you asking that _now_?”

“It seems as good a time as any,” grinned the thief. He ducked, hiding his face under his unruly locks and ran a hand over the back of his head. “And… you should call me Akira too, you know.”

“T-that doesn’t seem right,” Goro shot back. “I don’t see anything wrong with calling you with your family name.”

“But my friends all call me Akira, and whether you like it or not, you’re one of them now, _Goro_. Please?” the thief’s voice softened. “It’d really make me happy. I’ve… always wanted you to call me Akira,” he confessed.

“Fine,” Goro conceded. “But you do realize we’ll mostly be using codenames while we’re working together right?”

“It’s not like we’ll only be seeing each other in the Palace!” The thief grinned, before his features mellowed. “I’m so glad you’re coming with us, Goro. I liked fighting in the casino with you.”

“I did too…” Goro admitted, cheeks flaring. “You can count on me this time, Kuru— I mean, Akira. I won’t let you down.”

Akira beamed. “Thank you… and you know that you can count on me too, right?”

A lump choked the words out from Goro’s throat. He could only nod, before he twisted in his makeshift bed, turning his back on the thief.

Goro was tired, and it didn’t take long before he was fast asleep.

 

 

The Palace was on high alert the next day.

Their pace was slow, slower than what Goro would have liked, but he could hardly blame the Thieves for their caution. It would take more than a day for yesterday’s revelations to fully sink in, and Goro had yet to regain any form of trust amongst the rest of the Thieves.

Their teamwork was in shambles; they missed baton passes and follow-up attacks, and he could see the others flinch whenever he switched to use Loki. Only Joker matched his moves in the battlefield, and together, they made quick work of the Shadows they encountered. Eventually, they assembled by the elevator to the main assembly hall, and inserted the keycards they gathered from the Shadows.

His double had not appeared in the engine room, strangely enough, and the heady rush of his success had let his guard down. They opened the hall’s double doors to find the cognition waiting for them, his gun already drawn and ready to fire.

The cognition said something— Goro didn’t hear what; blood rushed to his head in his panic— and aimed at Joker.

No!

He pushed Akira out of the way, and felt a searing pain rip through his chest. He felt the world go hazy and then—

He felt nothing more.

 

* * *

  

_He drifted, watching as the dark blue void fully give way to black, as tiny pinpricks of light started to emerge amidst the darkness. They reminded Goro of the days he spent at the countryside with his mother, when he would look up at the night sky on a quiet evening and saw stars spanning in all directions. Years of living in Tokyo had robbed Goro of the memory until now; the city lights burned brighter than the stars and ground their beauty under its heel._

_One star, no different than its neighbours, called out to something deep within Goro’s soul. He wanted to reach out; to grasp it in his arms, to bury his face in its warmth and feel its soothing presence after a long day. He wanted—_

_Home. He wanted to come home._

_The chains felt lighter around his limbs. A sharp kick, and his left leg was free._

_He turned his head in the direction of Lavenza’s telltale glow. She drifted in the space to his left, fluttering about as if to check on him._

_“This doesn’t look like the in-between,” he remarked, trying to shake his arms free._

_Lavenza rested on the links over his right arm, and Goro felt the chains loosen a smidge. “That’s right. You have drifted beyond that. This is the Sea of Souls, from which all souls spring forth and to which all souls eventually return. Do you see those stars? Each one is a human soul, at rest after their journey through life, but never truly gone.”_

_His right arm finally shook free of its binds. He pulled at the chains on his left, his eyes back to staring at the lone star that had called his attention before._

_“I… shouldn’t be here, right? Can you send me back?”_

_“I’m afraid I no longer can. We have already passed the limits of my power. Already, I can feel our connection fading and I won’t be able to follow you as you go.”_

_With a clink of metal, his other arm was free. He reached out to the butterfly, left behind as the last chain on his ankle dragged him deeper into the darkness. “Wait, please! I just need one more chance.”_

_But Lavenza was already too far away. “Sorry...hero...! You… too far…!” Her gentle voice struggled to reach the gap between them. She called out to him, called until the last of her voice was overtaken by the gaping silence that filled the Sea and her radiance faded from sight._

_Goro managed to rip of the final set of chains from his leg, and at last, he was free; but nothing stopped his momentum as he drifted further into the depths._

_It was hopeless. He had his chances, and he blew them all. He had nothing; no more plans, no more tricks. There was nothing more he could do. Goro closed his eyes in resignation, just like he did many lifetimes ago, under the barrel of his doppelganger’s gun._

_He saw Lavenza’s butterfly form in his mind._

_‘_ _It is not weakness to ask for help, dear guest_ _,’_

_He saw Akira, glowing under the moonlight that streamed into his attic window._

  _‘_ _Thank you… and you know that you can count on me too, right?_ _’_

  _Goro’s eyes snapped open, and he called out into the void._

  _“Please… help me!”_

  _Nothing happened. No familiar blue glow. No voices to_

  _Nothing._

  _Until a glowing red line carved through the darkness, stopping right in front of Goro— a single thread, in the same shade of Joker’s gloves, waved in front of him; its length stretched out into the distance._

  _He grabbed the thread and smiled softly as he zoomed between stars and clock faces, and watched as black lightened to midnight and into a bright, bright blue._

 

* * *

  

The orange afternoon sky seemed brighter after what seemed an eternity in the darkness.

He breathed in the salty ocean air, pulled out his phone and watched as the scenery melted into the alleyways surrounding the Diet Building. He carefully routed through the back roads, hiding his face from the occasional pedestrian that passed him by.

Instead of taking a train directly to Shibuya, Goro decided to loop around and boarded the train to Ikebukuro. He detoured into the nearby planetarium, replacing his uniform coat with a red, star-patterned hoodie from the gift shop, and stared at the constellations displayed in the building’s entrance hall.

He didn’t know there was a planetarium here. He made a note to come back another time.

He ran back into the station, hood pulled low over his face, and made his way to his final destination.

“The next station is Yongen-Jaya. I repeat, the next station is Yongen-Jaya.”

His detours had taken him longer than he expected, and it was evening now. The empty streets of Yongen were even emptier at night, and the moon cast its silver glow over the barren streets, illuminating it far better than the flickering street lights.

The sign on the cafe read closed, but the lights were still open. The bell jingled as he twisted the door open, and greeted the young, wide-eyed barista practicing behind the counter.

 “Akira… I need your help.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Yell at me in the comments or on my twitter [@hereliesandy](https://twitter.com/hereliesandy).


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